DOWN HOME: Undulating weather and divine wisdom

Raise your hand if you—or your sinuses, or the local plants—are confused by the weather.

I see that hand. Yes, and that one over there. Up in the balcony, too. … My, so many hands.

Around here, we've breezed through a mild winter. Just a few nights when the temperature dipped below freezing. No snow, and only a smidge or two of sleet, but nothing accumulated.

It's been enough to convince all the global-warming folks to proclaim: "See? This is what I've been talking about," and to double-down on their bets Planet Earth really is heating up.

Of course, just when you think you've got it all figured out, you realize, "Hey, I live in Texas, and I don't know squat about the weather."

That's why the weatherpeople are wrong about as often as they are right this time of year. In the summer, they've got the easiest job. Morning and night, they look in the cameras and declare with straight faces: "It's gonna be hot for as long as you can imagine. And don't even think about rain, because the sun's gonna bake your yard to a crisp." They're right, too. But this time of year, the smart ones don't even try to guess the weather with all their gazillion-dollar radars. They stand in front of their maps and recount highs and lows and then tell their viewers: "Forget about deciding tonight what you're wearing to work tomorrow. In the morning, get up and go outside. If it's cold, put on a coat."

(If I were a "consultant," I'd charge TV station managers five figures for that paragraph I just wrote. Then I'd get rich and also improve their weather forecasts.)

Lately, I've seen plenty of confused plants. Like the tulip tree in full bloom last week. Haven't had the heart to drive past that yard since the temps fell into the 20s the other night. But I'd guess the tree looks worse for the wear.

Now, practically everybody has a cold or is getting over one. Although I'm not a doctor and don't play one on TV, I'm guessing the pandemic of coughing, hacking and sneezing has to do with the weather. First, we get a cold snap, and the dry, sharp air transforms everybody's sinuses to the texture of dehydrated apricots. That's followed by several days of temperatures in the 60s, causing the plants to pollinate like they're procreating for Rose Bowl Parade floats. Next, the little burr-edged plant spores dive straight into all those dry, receptive sinuses. The next thing you know, it's Gesundheitville.

The Old Testament declares: "Praise be to the name of God for ever and ever; wisdom and power are his. He changes times and seasons; he deposes kings and raises up others. He gives wisdom to the wise, and knowledge to the discerning" (Daniel 2:20-21).

I get that God changes the seasons. But in this season, I'm praying for wisdom: Do you starve a cold and feed a fever, or is it the other way around?